


Shapeshifting

by Shaleschnueffler



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester Saves The Day, Episode: s01e06 Skin, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Probably ooc, Psychological Torture, Shapeshifter Dean, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 01:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16337255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleschnueffler/pseuds/Shaleschnueffler
Summary: S01 E06 - SkinIt all goes perfectly according to script: Sam confronts the shapeshifter, disguised as Dean, in front of the Impala and gets hit to the head before he loses consciousness and wakes up somewhere in the sewers of Missouri.This time, though, things take a different turn, and the shapeshifter wants him to suffer through more than just some hurting words he's dug up from Dean's memory.





	Shapeshifting

**Author's Note:**

> Um, hi.
> 
> This is a short story based on Supernatural, season 1 episode 6 - skin (obviously). I do not own any of the characters or the main idea, this still being my own creative work.  
> Dialogues are partly taken right from the actual episode to help me build up a noticeable connection to the series (and a template to get me going), everything else built around these canon parts by myself.
> 
> Don't judge me pls.  
> This is/has been my first work in the SPN fandom; I wrote it shortly after I started watching so it's basically a fanfic written by a Supernatural Season 1 Rookie who doesn't know shit.  
> It's probably pretty OOC and kind of random, I don't even know if it makes ANY sense AT ALL as I switched a lot of stuff up and just carelessly changed things.  
> Also, the ending might be somewhat...yeah, random. But yeah, whatever.  
> Please note that English is not my first language so I'd appreciate it if you noted grammar or spelling mistakes for me to fix. Although I wrote it some time ago, this is the work I spent most of my time and patience on and therefore, I want it to be as close to perfect as possible (at least concerning language).
> 
> I do hope it won't make you vomit.  
> Enjoy.

\- "Alright. Here you go."  
  
His focused eyes followed the keys that he had just thrown until Dean's hand closed around them, catching them mid-air. Sam watched his brother unlock the car and open the trunk of the Chevrolet Impala they'd been driving around with, and the smile that flashed over Dean's face as he studied their hidden arsenal right underneath the trunk was enough of a reason for Sam to pull his gun, now pointing the barrel right at the older one's chest.  
  
\- "Don't move!"  
  
Dean turned towards him, shock and confusion clearly written all over his face but Sam didn't lower the revolver he was holding.  
  
\- "What have you done with him?!"  
  
\- "Dude, chill. It's me, alrigh-"  
  
\- "No, I don't think so. Where's my brother."  
  
\- "You're about to shoot him. Sam, calm down."  
  
\- "You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt."  
  
\- "Yeah, it's better. What do you want me to do? Cry?"  
  
He repositioned, now both of his hands supporting the weapon he'd closed his fingers around but somehow he doubted his decision. _He couldn't possibly_...could he?  
He wanted to shoot a bullet of silver right through the shapeshifter's chest, he really did but he…he just couldn't get himself to move.  
Was it weird that he was kind of jealous of Dean, who would have pulled the trigger minutes ago without even wasting a thought on it?  
Dean. He had always been the one going on instinct and impulse while Sam spent a lot of time contemplating and thinking.  
  
\- "You're not my brother."  
  
\- "Why won't you pull the trigger then? Hm? 'Cause you're not sure. Dude, you know me."  
  
Sam swallowed, his confidence suddenly washed away like letters in the sand, while he stared into Dean's dark eyes without moving a muscle.  
  
\- "I don't."  
  
They looked into each other’s eyes for two seconds that were filled with nothing but silence. Everything happened too fast for Sam to react. He didn't know where the hard object in Dean's hands came from or what it was but it wasn't as if that mattered anyway.  
He saw something flash in the light of the street lamp before he was hit on the head from the right, dropping his weapon, moaning in both shock and pain. Stumbling towards the left side, he only felt his head being hit once more before everything went completely black around him.  
  
...why couldn't he just be more like Dean in those kinds of situations?

 

 

* * *

 

  
  
The older man gazed down at the seemingly small figure tied to the wall with a look that appeared to express both amusement and seriousness. Sam was blinking rapidly, still feeling the pain of where he'd been hit on the right side of his head before. He was probably bleeding but the small wound was _definitely_ not his main problem right now.  
Dean was blankly observing Sam as he started to squirm without saying a word or even looking at the man towering above him, trying to somehow escape the chains holding his wrists together, now noticing a rope tied around his throat.  
  
\- "Are you actually trying to get away? Oh, Sammy, I thought you'd be smarter, really."  
  
\- "Where is he? Where's Dean?!"  
  
\- "I wouldn't worry about him...I'd worry about you."  
  
\- "Where is he?!"  
  
\- "You don't really wanna know."  
  
Sam yanked at the chains once more, a deep pain now shooting through his wrists when they seemed to even tighten around his body.  
  
\- "I'd stop that if I was you…"  
  
\- "Why don't you just become me, then?", the taller man sneered and shot his opponent a quick glance.  
  
He knew that Dean was gonna come and get him out of here eventually. Well, if he didn't manage to get out himself, that was. Of course, his brother was in a better position to take action but they'd been in worse situations before, for this was relatively harmless, and Sam was quite sure he would be able to find a way to loosen the chains holding him down.  
He would probably have to stay calm, though. He couldn't afford to prompt the shapeshifter, or to even pick a fight because he knew that if he did, there was _no chance he was gonna win._  
Supposing that the creature would most likely always stay close to him for a few hours now - considering the fact that Dean knew where its hideout was located -, Sam was already mentally preparing for a long time down here in the sewers. He had no problem with being held hostage, or whatever it was that the shapeshifter was planning to do with him, even if it would start to hurt him. Of course, he could imagine better things than being tortured by his own brother but Sam had learned to cope with pain a long time ago, and also, he trusted his sibling enough to put his life into his hands.  
Another short pull at the chains, he heard them clink as they went even tighter and made it almost hard to catch air.  
  
\- "Sam? Do you hear me?"  
  
Sam threw his brother a deadly look at the obvious question, who then proceeded to carelessly walk up and down in front of him.  
  
\- "I told you to stop."  
  
\- "You think that would keep me from trying?"  
  
\- "You're right. It wouldn't change a thing anyway, little brother."  
  
\- "I'm not...your brother."  
  
\- "That's funny....because…everyone is calling me Dean already, you know?"  
  
\- "We will put an end to this. I will shoot you down; and if I can't, Dean will do it instead."  
  
\- "I wouldn't be so sure of that."  
  
\- "What is that supposed to mean."  
  
\- "He sure got issues with you…you got the good college, he had to stay home. I mean, _I_ had to stay home. With Dad. You don't think I had dreams on my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were _you_?"  
  
\- "Where. Is my brother."  
  
Sam felt his chest tighten at the shapeshifter's words, his own voice had gone cold and emotionless.  
  
\- "I _am_ your brother. See, deep down...I'm just jealous. You got friends, you got to have a life. Me?...I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later everybody's gonna leave me."  
  
\- "What are you talking about."  
  
The taller man met the shifter's gaze. There wasn't a single trace of fear on Sam's face, just cold and raw hatred.  
  
\- "You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to and _he ditched me too_. No explanation, nothing, just...left me with your sorry ass. But enough of this. It's not like it would change anything anyway....after what happened to your brother. You really believe I wouldn't have taken care of this rat? I'd even say _you'll never be able to say sorry, Sammy_... Having gotten rid of him, I can do whatever I want in his body...and you'll stay down here, slowly starving to death...."  
  
\- "...You...Nobody will fall for this."  
  
\- "Oh, but you did. For hours, you believed me. Until I caught these damn keys you threw…"  
  
Sam's eyes widened in surprise at the quietly spoken words. He couldn't tell whether the shapeshifter was simply bluffing or whether he'd really been...Dean. All the time.  
  
\- "You didn't have a single clue, did you? I've been with you for such a long time....and you didn't even question anything… _at all._ Maybe you're doing that now? Wondering what happened to your brother?"  
  
\- "..What have you done to him? Where is Dean?!", Sam choked through tightly shut teeth, staring deep into his brother's eyes. The shapeshifter's grin widened at the question and it sneaked closer to the young hunter, making it possible for Sam to feel the icy breaths on his cold face.  
  
A sudden pain went through his arms that he had thought to have gone numb and when he looked down at his shoulder, he saw bright red blood flood through the fabric of his torn and dirt-covered t-shirt.  
  
\- "you know, I...let's just say I followed him around a little. Out there on the streets, while you were on your way here...And then when he stood still for a second...I saw my chance... I put both of my hands around his skull and looked into his eyes; they were filled with so much anger and shock and _hatred,_ until the pain was too much to bear for him and he collapsed on the pavement, and then...I brought him down into the sewers."  
  
A hand grabbed Sam's chin, forcing him to look into Dean's eyes while the knife found its way into his waist, making the young man breathe in sharply.  
  
\- "And you know what I did to him, Sam? No? Let me tell you. I put him up on the wall like I did with you. I let him hang there for minutes, _hours, even_ , till his fingers went blue from the loss of blood in his hands."  
Sam saw the closed fist rushing towards his face a moment too late to actually mentally prepare for it, and he could swear he heard his neck crack when it met his jaw.  
  
\- "I felt the tension running through his body when I first hit him. And I went on, Sam, oh and _how I went on_. I hit him, whipped him, cut him, kicked him until eventually, I ripped off his skin and broke every single bone in his body part after part while looking into his eyes, those dark dull eyes filled with fear and pain and _hopelessness_ before I saw the life _slowly slipping away._ His screams still echo through my head, he was screaming for help, _screaming for you to come_ and _for me to stop_ until at some point, he went dead quiet. You know what had happened, Sam?"  
  
The tied up man didn't even know anymore where the immense pain he felt was coming from. He felt the cuts burn, felt the spots where he'd been hit pound, felt his legs slowly give in when the two strong hands of his brother closed around his throat, pressing the rugged rope into his skin.  
  
\- "He had given up. Given up on his life, given up on you. The pain was almost killing him before I could even end it. The disappointment in his eyes, you can't imagine how much I _enjoyed_ watching him _squirm and shake in fear_..."  
  
Sam was choking now. It was like his whole body was on fire, he gasped for air but there was none. The urge to breathe was growing, the consciousness shrinking as his vision slowly started to darken and blur. His ears were ringing from the lack of oxygen, he needed to breathe, _now._  
  
\- "I picked up _this pretty knife here_ , covered in blood and dirt, and I drove it through his chest, blood and tears running down his face."  
  
Suddenly, there was air again. Sam was gasping, choking, desperate to pump air into his burning lungs but the first breath he took turned into a loud groan when he felt the knife sink into the flesh right below his collarbone. It sat deep, too deep, _way too deep_ but the real pain only kicked in when it was pulled out again. Sam was rapidly breathing now, stars dancing in front of his eyes, Dean's face blurred, he was suffering from a tunnel vision that seemed to get worse with every second.  
  
\- "His last scream was probably the most satisfying one. And you? _You still weren't showing up_."  
  
He was shaking. Feeling dizzy. His throat felt dry. His head hurt. _Everything hurt._  
His brother's voice sounded muffled, Sam felt like he'd gone numb by now but when he got kicked into the guts, he noticed that he hadn't.  
  
\- "That was when I held his corpse in my hands. This _lifeless body_ that I then burned down until nothing was left but ashes _like you always do it to those poor and sad souls_ …And you just haven't been around to save him… _did you even try, Sam?_ You let your beloved brother suffer and die below my hands just like you let _everyone you loved_ die in agony. _Do you really deserve being saved now_?"  
  
A single tear started to run down Sam's blood-smeared face, making his wounds burn even more but the worst pain he felt was the one in his tightening chest. He could've been there, he _should've been there_ to save him, _to save his brother_. It was his fault, _only his fault..._  
  
\- "-..SHUT UP!" , he tried to scream but the words came out as a quiet plea, a soft cry for help due to the pressure on his throat and lungs. He attempted not to believe the shifter's words, to remember Dean telling him that, _"Sam, it wasn't your fault"_ , to _"stop blaming yourself"_ as his brother had put it but he was so lightheaded, _so close to giving up_ that he found himself _not even caring anymore._  
  
Clenching his fists, shaking, he tried to say something, to _yell_ but the only thing that left his mouth was a fit of coughs. He didn't know what was happening, _he was panicking, he was so **scared**._  
  
\- "I killed your family, Sammy. I set your mother on fire, your girl, your brother. I burned them all down, _I made them all scream in pain_. And your father will be next. And I will keep you here with me and make you suffer until you hear your daddy scream in pain with our own ears; until you watch him die that _slow painful death_ that he _deserves_ with your own pretty eyes, Sam, before I will take you apart piece by piece...by piece....by piece."  
  
Desperately gasping for air, trembling, squirming, he saw the amused grin on the shapeshifter's face. His vision had become a complete blur now, as he pleaded, only with his frantically shifting eyes, for Dean to finally end all this, to kill him, to _take his life_ or just _let him go already._  
He felt his legs quiver when he, not even able to bring up enough force to keep his eyes open, let his head edge downwards, the rope around his throat making him cough once more; as a sign of surrender.  
_Fuck Dean_. Fuck Dean and his stupid encouragements and lies.  
This was his fault, _everything was his fault_. He could've warned Jess, he could've been more aware while being with Dean, he should've listened to his brother, should've never left his family _to fulfill his selfish dream of a normal life._  
He should've never survived this first fire that his mother had died in.  
Better yet, _he should've never been **born** in the first place._  
Without him, they wouldn't have died. Their mother wouldn't have died, Jessica wouldn't have died, Dean would still be alive and their father wouldn't have gone missing… everyone would..--  
  
_He couldn't do this anymore._  
  
Sam hung there for minutes in which Dean proceeded to tenderly caress his hair.  
He would've attempted to back up if he'd been able to. But he wasn't.  
He was completely motionless. Not even trying to force his eyes open. There was so much pain. _Too much to bear._  
Maybe death wasn't as bad as people claimed....maybe hell was a better place than earth. He was sure he belonged there anyway.  
  
\- "You..."  
  
Having cried every tear he could've possibly shed, having experienced every kind of pain he could've possibly felt, having stood everything he could've possibly borne; he was now only hoping for death to put its hands around his throat and suck even the _smallest bit_ of life out of his aching body until _**nothing** was left._  
The time that passed before anything happened at all, felt like hours to Sam who had forced his eyes open again, now gazing at the pool of blood and tears that had formed below his feet. Cob webs, pebbles and old ropes and tools covering the ground were only a blurred mess in his eyes and he felt the dust itch in his throat when he sucked in ragged breaths. The dripping sound of the blood that his shirt's soaked fabric wasn't able to absorb, was the only thing he could hear in the quiet room. He didn't even know where the shapeshifter had left to. Or when it had left, therefore. However, he was sure he was alone now.  
Maybe this was his chance to get out. To flee.

  
_But, again, he found himself **not even caring**._

  
Even though he had been desperately hoping for the creature to leave, right now he was craving an end of the pain more than freedom; and he felt horrible for even thinking about death this way.  
Suddenly, there were loud steps again, echoing back from the narrow walls surrounding him, and without even thinking about it, he immediately spat out the only words that were on his mind.  
  
\- **_"Fuck you."_**  
  
\- "Oh well, I'd prefer not to."  
  
Sam could practically hear the smile in the shifter's - Dean's - voice. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Not in a fight. Not saving his brother. No. Killed by a stupid shapeshifter somewhere in Missouri's sewers.

  
Crying.

  
_Surrendering._

  
He let his eyes shut and started to hold his breath in pure anticipation.  
And when he felt the intense pain that he had been waiting for shoot through every part of him, every single muscle in his body went limp, now only held upright by the ropes and chains, until eventually, all his senses shut off and he felt himself black out completely.  


 

* * *

 

  
The first thing that he felt when he slowly drifted back to consciousness, was making him breathe in sharply. He blinked, rapidly. It was just as dark around him as he remembered it to be, as it had been before. He was still down in the sewers.  
  
His head was throbbing but he was alive.  
  
_He was still alive._  
  
When he lifted his head, a piercing pain rushed through his chest but he ignored it as good as he could, and started to look around. Except, he didn't have to.  
Bright eyes were staring deep into his and he immediately tried to shuffle backwards, his heartbeat quickening up. It took less than a second for him to bump into a wall, leaving him helpless, and without any escapes.  
  
\- "Hello, Sam. _You slept well?_ "  
  
The demon reached out to him with a wide smile and despite the pain, the tall man pulled back even further, now pressing both of his arms against the cold wall in his back, his legs tightly pulled up to his body.  
  
\- " _Don't touch me..!_ "  
  
Sam felt the tears burn in his eyes. Cold sweat ran down his face and made the injuries on his cheeks and jaw feel like fire on his skin. His head hurt, almost as much as the wound below his collarbone that he found to be still bleeding. Sam wasn't sure how much blood he'd actually lost but according to his blurred vision, the pounding in his temples, the room spinning around him - and the pool of red liquid on the floor -, it must've been a lot.  
  
\- "I guess it wasn't enough…"  
  
The creature grated and crawled closer towards the young man who simply ground his teeth, looking around for any possible escapes. The demon, though, eager to come closer and closer, just wouldn't stop, basically forcing Sam to get up - or to try, at least. His limbs betrayed him the second he put any weight onto them, so that he fell back down again, _left helpless once more._  
His whole body hurt. He couldn't make out his surroundings, everything felt so _burning hot_ , his insides were sore, his mouth and eyes dry, _just why wasn't he dead yet?!_

  
He curled up on himself, his blood covered arms put around his head in order to protect his face when he felt a hand brush over his neck that made him shake.  
  
\- "Now...I killed your mother, your love, your brother... _and you still didn't give in_?"  
  
Two claws on his shoulders, digging deep into the wounds left there by the knife and the chains, pulling him forward. He heard quiet whispers right next to his ear, like stretched howls; followed by cold breath brushing over his cheek.  
He still didn't dare to move, or to open his eyes. He was still trembling, his rushing blood filling his ears and all of a sudden he felt something sharp graze his neck when...-  
when the jingling, dark voice suddenly merged into a calm and soft one...when his cold body was flooded with warmth he'd been craving to feel without even knowing...when he couldn't feel the sharp, bony claws on his shoulders anymore…when he felt a touch so soft and tender that he started to wonder whether he had really deserved heaven after all the lives he hadn't managed to save.  
  
_When he finally could make out words that made sense again._  
  
\- "-down, Sammy...yeah, just like that, just try to match my heartbeat. Deep, slow breaths. It's just me. You're okay now."  
  
If he was being honest, Sam needed a few seconds to recognize the voice that was quietly mumbling soothing words into his ear, but _when he did_ , he felt a whole lot of emotions both fall off of him and take him over.  
He sucked in a big breath of relief, collapsing into his brother's arms who was silently holding him close until he wasn't breathing as heavily anymore.  
The younger hunter was more than baffled by his brother's weirdly caring behavior but simply chose to appreciate Dean's compassionate actions.  
  
\- "You okay? What'd he do to you?"  
  
\- "Dean, I....I'm sorry. It was obvious that he wasn't saying the truth...I should've known he was lying. I shouldn't have been so blind, I was just..."  
  
Sam tried to blink the tears away as Dean carefully pulled back, now simply cowering on the ground in front of his brother who was still shaking slightly, barely noticeable.  
  
\- " _What_ was obvious, Sam? You need to tell me."  
  
\- "He told me that he'd kidnapped...tortured and killed you. Taken you apart piece by piece."  
  
\- "Ha. You're telling me you had some kind of _breakdown '_ cause some shapeshifter told you they'd _killed me_? Yeah, of course, Sam. Nice try, I appreciate the efforts put into this excuse but…try a little harder next time."  
  
Sam felt a piece of his heart crack at the words but he decided not to fight Dean on what he had said. He hated being emotional.  
  
\- "It's nothing, Dean. He hurt me, it was...too much to bear. I actually believed his words, it was-"  
  
\- "Sammy, listen-"  
  
\- "It's _Sam_."  
  
\- "Yeah, whatever, stop lying to me, got it? Come on, there's no use in hiding whatever he told you."  
  
\- "..."  
  
\- "Sam.", Dean's voice was steady but there was an impatient tune in it that Sam couldn't possibly miss; the single word that left his mouth sounded more like an order than a calming.  
  
Sam took a deep breath and started to look at his own intertwined hands, still trembling a little. When he finally locked eyes with Dean again and opened his mouth to speak up, he saw the concern and reassurance in the older one's face.

  
He was worried.

  
_Dean was actually **worried**._

  
Sam had already been confused when his brother had hugged him to soothe him before but now...now he was okay. Right now, _Sam was fine_. Calm. Focused.  
Still, _his brother was worried about him_.  
  
\- "He said that he killed Mom. And Jessica. And that he would get Dad next. And when I woke up I saw this... _yellow-eyed thing_ in your place."  
  
Dean paused for a second, his dark eyes filled with disbelief before the focused expression returned to his face as he began to talk in a calm tone that Sam rarely ever heard from him.  
  
\- "You know that those things might be able to read your thoughts. You probably thought of Mom and Jessica when it started talking about how it killed me. There's nothing more to that."  
  
Dean had gotten up from the ground and had tucked away his weapon, now dusting off his clothes as a sign of completion, showing that they were now officially done here.  
  
\- "I know but…what _if_ there is more to it?! What if this thing really is connected to…the demon."  
  
\- "Even if it is. It won't hurt anyone anymore."  
  
The hunter glanced at his own corpse that was motionlessly lying on the ground and Sam followed his eyes. He felt weird, seeing his own brother dead on the floor but he figured it must've been harder for Dean to actually shoot himself - okay, well, thinking about it, it was Dean they were talking about. He probably killed this creature in disguise with another one of these _cool remarks of his_ and without even thinking about it too much…while Sam spent minutes talking to the shapeshifter after having blown its cover, just to get knocked out and tied up in the end...  
  
\- "Do you think...this might've been..?"  
  
\- "Don't be ridiculous, Sam", Dean moaned, rolling his eyes, "the demon that killed Mom wasn't a simple shapeshifter and you know that."  
  
\- "Yeah...you're probably right."  
  
\- "See. Let's just leave this place. I don't really wanna be around my own corpse anymore. Also, we got better things to do. We should take care of these wounds, they don't look too good to me. Plus, I heard there's a nice bar around."  
  
Sam let out a quiet hum of resignation that got drowned out by the pained groan leaving his mouth the second he moved to get his feet back under him again. His brother was by his side within heartbeats and put the younger one's arm around his own shoulders to support him.  
  
\- "God damn it, Sam, what's the matter?"  
  
\- "I'm fine-"  
  
\- "Say 'I'm fine' one more time and I will _punch you in the face_ , I swear."  
  
\- "...I just want...to put an end to all this."  
  
\- "I know. I do, too. But Dad doesn't want us to hunt that demon down with him. We got our tasks and we have to accomplish them. Dad will take care of that bastard."  
  
\- "Why do we have to follow Dad's orders again?", Sam snapped and Dean, not in the mood to have this stupid discussion for the probably tenth time now, pulled his arm away from his brother's waist for a split second, denying him the much needed support. The taller man already saw his jaw connecting to the dirty floor with a loud smack when Dean's hand closed around his shoulder again, softly, keeping him upright.  
  
\- "What was that for?!” Sam complained loudly, shooting a glance at his sibling who was stupidly grinning.  
  
\- "I felt like you deserved it."  
  
\- "I feel like you deserve getting punched."  
  
\- "Okay, then, do it. Punch me, man."  
  
Dean's grip loosened once more as if he was actually going to go face to face with Sam to let him get his revenge in the form of a - well-deserved - punch. The younger hunter, though, couldn't help but dig his fingers into his brother's shoulder out of sheer panic, holding on to the body next to his like to a lifeline but Dean, who would've thought, didn't even let go of him in the first place.  
  
\- " ** _DEAN!_** "  
  
\- "Yeah, Sammy, what's up? Damn, you're being so affectionate. I begin to understand why you flipped your shit when that shifter started talking about killing me."  
  
\- "That's not funny, Dean", Sam breathed, heart still rapidly pounding in his cramped chest.  
  
\- "Eh. It's a little funny."  
  
\- "You're a maniac."  
  
\- "Stop whining, bitch."  
  
\- "Jerk", Sam shot back without even thinking about it.

 

And no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't hold back the weary smile that passed over his face.


End file.
